The Talk
by DoubleMarchive7490195
Summary: Ishizu worried, as any sister would.


"Marik, this cannot keep happening. Bakura can't keep coming around like this."

"You're over-reacting." Marik retorted, his arms crossed sullenly in front of his chest. "It's not that big a deal—"

"Do you know what they do to…to…" Ishizu floundered.

"People who are gay?" Marik asked quietly, raising an eyebrow. "Is this what you're trying to get at, sister?"

"I don't want you getting hurt, you know that." Ishizu snapped, her eyes following Marik as he perched on a chair. "If you get arrested—"

"Have you noticed that we live in the middle of the desert?" Her younger brother interrupted, taking a sip of his lemonade. "Our nearest neighbors are thirty minutes away by car. Who's going to come all the way out here—"

"That's not the point." Ishizu crouched down next to him, grabbing his shoulder. "If they arrest you for your…relationship…with Bakura, they _will _find out about everything else. About Battle City, and about everything that happened in the tomb. They would find out about what happened to Father…."

Marik flinched, staring out into the air. "You underestimate me," he murmured darkly. "There is nothing they can do, no torture they can try, to get that information out of me." He stood suddenly, glaring down at his sister. "Or would you tell them, is that it?"

"Marik, just try to understand—"

"Would you?"

"If that's what I have to do!" Ishizu replied. "Don't you get it, _this_ is what you wanted! You wanted to be part of _normal _society, and normal society has to follow the rules that have been set for it. And this…this is one of them. You can stay friends with Bakura, but—"

"But? You're handing me all of these buts and ifs…why is it so necessary for people to stick their noses in other peoples business?" Marik cried, his hands balled into fists."Why should you be able to love who you want and not me?"

Ishizu stared at him. "How could you love someone like him?" she asked. "You could do so much better…"

Violet eyes flaring, Marik's glass flew past Ishizu's head. It shattered against the wall with a crash as he darted for the door.

"MARIK!" Ishizu yelled, running after him. "GET BACK HERE! WE ARE NOT DONE DISCUSSING—" 

"THE HELL WE AREN'T!" Marik shouted back over his shoulder. He was already past the path that lead to the road, his feet kicking up sand as he ran towards the cliffs.

"MARIIIIIIK!" Ishizu's voice cracked. "GET _DOWN!_"

Odion appeared from around the house, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "What happened?"

"I tried to talk to him about….what we agreed he needed to know."

"Ah." Odion gave her a small, wistful smile. "It's best to let him be for awhile, I think." They watched his progress up the cliff face, towards a small cave that lay a little over halfway up. Hearing the commotion, Bakura emerged from the shadows, face looking from the house to Marik. He reached out as the blond neared the ledge, smiling as he helped him up and received a sweeping kiss in return.

Ishizu cringed. "MARIK! STOP THAT AND—"

"Let him go," Odion interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. "If that's where he needs to be right now, then let him be." The two young men had already slipped out of their sight, back into the shadow of the cave as Ishizu sighed.

"What do we do?" she murmured, sinking down onto the step. "He won't listen to us anymore…"

Odion shrugged. "Maybe we should just let him handle it. If Bakura makes him happy…"

"We brought him here to keep him out of trouble. To protect him from danger, as mother asked. Isn't that what you've always said?"

Odion stood silently for a moment, mulling it over. "Maybe that time is past," he mused. "Maybe that vow was fulfilled when we put the pharaoh to rest." He shrugged, turning back to the horses whinnying for attention. "We have to let him grow up sometime, don't we?"

He wandered back towards his work, leaving Ishizu alone on the porch, her eyes boring into the sand. Finally she stood, rummaging around in her purse by the door for a cigarette case that she saved for rare occasions. She struck a match and set one alight, taking a long draw and letting the smoke out with a sigh.

"What am I going to do with you?" she murmured aloud. Perhaps the gods would receive her prayers on the whiffs of smoke, and deign to send an answer.


End file.
